


The Fault Lines

by HappilyNervousCollection



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, political intrigue?? in my smp?? more likely than you think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27024625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappilyNervousCollection/pseuds/HappilyNervousCollection
Summary: Nothing has been able to keep Tubbo and Tommy apart in the past. However, after the results of L'manburgh's first election, things might just get a little more complicated.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 22
Kudos: 250





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! New fic- this one has no relation to Feathers Scarlet. The respawn mechanics are the same or similar, and the plot may be canon aligned or canon divergent at different points. Either way, I hope you guys have as much fun with this as I will!

Tubbo hesitates for a moment outside an office doorway, body rigid as he stands there, still. He's given no acknowledgement, the room eerily silent, forcing him to make the first move. His chest is tight as he raises his hand, knocking lightly on the door frame, and when he talks, his voice is nothing more than a meek murmur.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. President-?"

The title tastes bitter on his tongue. It leaves an awful taste in Tubbo's mouth, tying a knot in his stomach. That, combined with the aching in his arms and shoulders, as well as the cold sweat that wracks through him nearly makes him feel nauseous. It's an active effort to ignore that feeling, though keeping his gaze focused on the tile instead of the man in front of him helps somewhat.

"Tubbo, there you are," Schlatt says, and his voice almost sounds warm when he regards him. It's chilling, and Tubbo doesn't trust it nearly as much as he thinks Schlatt hopes. "My right hand man. Come here- come on in." He instructs, and Tubbo gives a slight nod, taking one, two steps into the room. Each step leaves small _tap_ noises on the tile, and each noise only heightens Tubbo's anxieties.

He looks up just slightly, and finds that Schlatt isn't even looking at him. Instead, he's facing the large window, looking out across the country he now rules. He stands tall, proud, and Tubbo forces himself a few more steps forward, so that he is to Schlatt's left, just a little behind him. 

Everything about L'manburgh feels unsafe now. In reality, not all that much has changed, but the absence of the strong and protecting walls is enough to put Tubbo at unease. It brings similar feelings of war- similar shortness of breath following TNT detonations, similar twisting in his chest as he's stabbed straight through his back, both literally and metaphorically. He's unsure if it's the tension in his muscles or a phantom pain when he feels pinpricks between his shoulder blades.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Schlatt asks, pleased. There's a slight pause, and Tubbo begins to wonder if the question was rhetorical or not. It must not matter all that much, because Schlatt continues anyways. "Those walls were so dark and depressing. Finally, I feel like I can breathe in here." There's another pause, and Tubbo takes that as his cue to speak.

"I mean, I think I rather liked them." He says, and he keeps as still as he is able, though Schlatt's gaze rests on him with a heavy weight. He chooses not to make eye contact, though his focus shifts, and he can see both Schlatt and himself in the reflection of the glass. It's blurry, and he can't make out the exact details, but it's just enough for reference.

"Tubbo," Schlatt starts, and it doesn't come out nearly as dark as Tubbo had anticipated. That doesn't mean it's reassuring, though. "Things are going to change. I know you might hold some _attachments,"_ There's something to the way he says that word that makes Tubbo's chest tighten uncomfortably. "But I can assure you, things are going to be great. Hell, we might just keep some of it. Even that ugly old meth lab." He pauses, and when he speaks again, there's an edge to his tone. "Would you like that, Tubbo?"

It feels like a trap. Unfortunately, it's one that Tubbo can't really avoid. He swallows the lump in his throat, his voice coming out a little clearer than it had been before. "I would, Schlatt. I really would."

"Good, good." Schlatt turns now, his steps making that painful noise as he does, and the weight of Schlatt's gaze increases tenfold. Tubbo's nervous, and possibly the worst thing about it is that he can't quite pick out the reason. He knows he should be- he doesn't think it's irrational. But he can't figure out _why_ he should be. 

"You know, I can't help but feel as if some people might not like the changes I'm making." Schlatt muses. It's pointed, and though Tubbo's fingers feel cold and numb, he toes the line he's been given.

"Really?"

"I know, right?" Schlatt replies, laughing. It sounds just the slightest bit off, with an untraceable edge that keeps Tubbo's gaze set on the window. "And, get this- I think there might be some people that are out to get me." Schlatt adds, and Tubbo can see the slight furrow to his brow in the reflection of the glass. The statement has a darker undertone, one that keeps Tubbo still. "I mean, I don't know about you, but I really don't trust that Eret guy."

That comes out of left field, but still hits it's mark. Tubbo can feel the pinpricks between his shoulder blades again, small stinging sensations along different points of his body.

"You wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Tubbo?"

Schlatt's hand rests on his left shoulder, just as it had before, and his touch feels like flame. It burns, and though the touch is light, it still agitates the bruise Schlatt had likely left before. Tubbo hasn't had the opportunity to really check to see if one has formed yet. When Tubbo flinches under the contact, Schlatt's grip becomes just the slightest bit tighter, keeping him still. There's a lump in his throat, and Schlatt keeps the contact, not letting Tubbo move. It forces him to speak.

"He- He was originally on our side, during the war with Dream," Tubbo admits, and his voice comes out as little more than a croak. His breath is shaky as he speaks, causing for a nervous stammer. "But midway through, he- he tricked us. He betrayed us."

It really had hurt. Tubbo hadn't been expecting it- they'd been high off their first ever victory, and Eret had promised something that could guarantee their freedom. In hindsight, Eret had definitely seemed off, but Tubbo never would have anticipated what happened. He remembers the fear in his chest as he fought off George, eyes hardly even focused on the man as he stared at Eret. Tubbo had tried running, following after the remainder of his friends, only to have a sword pierce straight through his back. 

He's wondered more than once or twice if Eret had felt bad. Wondered what Eret must have thought when he watched him die. 

Schlatt doesn’t ask Tubbo to elaborate. 

“That’s good to know. I’ll have to keep an eye on him,” Schlatt says, and mercifully, his hand lifts off Tubbo’s shoulder and returns to his side. He turns to face L’manburgh, and Tubbo can see his expression in the glass- cool, collected, and proud. “I have big things planned for L’manburgh, after all, and I don’t want anyone getting in my way.”

There’s a power to how he says that. It’s controlling and dark, and it reminds Tubbo of when Schlatt had given his victory speech at the podium. Of when he had banished Tommy and Wilbur, had people fire at them with crossbows. Had instructed Tubbo a few minutes after their escape to catch them, and have them returned. 

Tubbo isn’t entirely sure he _wants_ to find them, now. 

He wonders what’ll happen if he won’t.

”You did good work today, Tubbo, but tomorrow I really need you to go out there and find Tommy and Wilbur,” Schlatt says, his voice that same even and dark tone, and it leaves no room for opposition. Tubbo glances between the reflection in the glass, then turns slightly so that he can look at the man directly. He does, and Schlatt’s gaze shifts to him, unsettling and all knowing. As if Tubbo is nothing more than the glass they were looking through seconds before. “Do I make myself clear?”

”Y-Yes, Mr. President.” Tubbo answers, frozen under Schlatt’s gaze, almost shuddering as the man gives him a smile. He almost looks amused, and that makes Tubbo’s skin crawl in a way that is horribly uncomfortable. 

“Good.” Schlatt nods, then, he sets his arm back on Tubbo’s shoulder, the same spot as before. He almost looks fond as he regards him, but there’s something unidentifiable underneath it all- something that makes Tubbo want to thrash and squirm out from Schlatt’s grip. He doesn’t, though. He stands stock still as Schlatt gives him an even smile. “There’s a reason you’re my right hand man, Tubbo.”

He doesn’t tell Tubbo what that reason is. If it was implicit, Tubbo isn’t entirely sure he understands. He has a few ideas, sure, but none of them are more likely than the others. His stomach churns with the possibilities, with that horrible, horrible heat still clasped along his shoulder. Schlatt’s hand squeezes, and now Tubbo knows he must have bruised by this point, because the way Schlatt’s thumb digs into his shoulder aches something awful. 

“You’re dismissed.”

The moment the hand is off his shoulder, Tubbo gives Schlatt a nod, and all but sprints out of the building. He doesn’t stop once he’s outside, he keeps running as fast as his legs can carry him, until finally, _finally,_ he’s made it back to his home. 

His breathing is uneven and panicky, and though he feels significantly better than when he was in Schlatt’s office, he’s still uneasy. He’s still nervous and scared and generally feels _unsafe._ He swallows, catching his breath and finding his way towards his bed. He’s tired, exhausted from the work he’s done today, and with shaky fingers he undoes the L’manburgh uniform.

It feels almost traitorous to do so, despite the current state of the country it represents. But still, Tubbo shucks the coat and hat, and removes the shirt with shaky fingers. There’s scars from previous battles, ones that are jagged and ones that are thin. They’re familiar. Not comforting per se, but familiar. 

However, the hand shaped bruise on his shoulder is not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to upload! I've kind of been going through some stuff lately. Still, I hope you enjoy!

Tommy doesn't rest easily. 

After making their escape, Wilbur and Tommy had hollowed out a small bit of a hill, providing themselves with the bare essentials. They had a single chest, as well as an ender chest and a bed- one that Wilbur and Tommy would have to share. Wilbur had insisted that Tommy be the first to set his spawn, that way if they were caught or killed, they wouldn't respawn back in L'manburgh.

Or, more grimly, they had a higher chance of respawning at all.

Tommy feels a little guilty at how often he wakes up. He's supposed to be getting his rest, that way Wilbur can sleep next without having to worry about Tommy finding himself stranded in L'manburgh. But instead, he stirs every hour or so, too many thoughts running through his head for him to truly rest. There's a few thoughts that primarily come to mind as he's trying to sleep, but the one that he can't quite shrug off is his friend.

"Prepare for the worst and hope for the best." Is what Tubbo had said so many hours before, back when things were still fine, and they could sit on their bench and watch the sunrise. Now, sitting on a new bed in a dirt cave, Tommy wonders how much of that was true.

Tubbo had been a large reason Tommy and Wilbur were able to escape in the first place. He'd built a bunker, provided them with potions of invisibility and speed. It had been Tommy and Wilbur's tunnel to freedom, fleeing the barrage arrows that flew passed them with murderous intent. Tommy doubts they would have escaped at all without Tubbo's assistance.

But, at the same time, Tubbo had stuck around. Tubbo had stayed in L'manburgh, kept his position as Secretary of State. Schlatt had called Tubbo to the podium, and Tubbo was instructed to capture Tommy and Will. And he'd agreed- he'd gone along with it. Tommy couldn't believe it- he still can't. Wilbur can, though. He does. 

The look on Wilbur's face had been one of utter betrayal, and though Tommy had pleaded with him again and again that they had to go back and get Tubbo, Wilbur had refused, saying that Tubbo couldn't be trusted. It makes Tommy's chest tighten, and though he trusts Wilbur, he wonders if the man also saw the way Tubbo flinched as Schlatt's hand rested on his shoulder. He wonders if Wilbur also saw the way Tubbo seemed to stammer when Schlatt called Tubbo his right hand man. 

"Oh," Schlatt had said, a cruel satisfaction to his voice as Tubbo made his way up to the podium. "My very own _Tubbo."_

The thought of that makes Tommy grit his teeth, his hands gripping the bedding tightly, as if tearing it apart will make whatever he's feeling go away. Schlatt had said that as if Tubbo was his- like Tubbo was a thing to be owned. He isn’t, he’s a person and he’s probably alone and scared, and- 

_And,_ Tommy thinks, his chest tightening, _if Tubbo was anybody’s, he was Tommy’s.  
_

It’s a strange thought that Tommy initially wants to shove aside, but it doesn’t quite leave him. Instead, after a moment, he finds himself agreeing with the statement. Tubbo was his right hand man, his best friend. Technically, Tubbo holds very little power in L’manburgh. Quackity is still Schlatt’s right hand man- his Vice President. 

It’s a power play, Tommy thinks, and that only makes him want to punch Schlatt harder. 

“Tommy, you’re still up?” The phrase earns his attention, and Tommy’s grip on the bedding slackens as he looks over the Wilbur. The man has shucked his coat and hat, his previously crisp white shirt now dirtied and stained. He’s got dirt smudged along his cheek, and either it’s a trick of the lighting or Wilbur’s got bags under his eyes. Tommy’s willing to bet on the latter. Still, he’s looking at Tommy with a defeated sort of concern, like he’s grasping at whatever they have left. Tommy bites his cheek.

”Yeah, sorry Will.” Tommy murmurs, slouching forwards. There’s a small change to Wilbur’s expression, but Tommy doesn’t bother to question it. The last thing the man needs is for Tommy to be bugging him about emotional shit. Especially when he’s pretty sure he and Wilbur must be feeling something similar. The bed dips, and Wilbur’s sat next to him, facing the dirt walls of their hideout.

”We need to come up with a plan,” Wilbur says, and Tommy’s grateful the man didn’t start nagging him to go to sleep again. Tommy nods in encouragement as Wilbur keeps going. “Right now, we don’t have anybody. We’re alone, and Tommy- we need people on our side. But I’m not sure who I can trust.”

”Tubbo,” Tommy answers immediately, and he immediately regrets the sort of desperation in his voice. “Wilbur, we can get Tubbo. We need him.”

There’s a pause, and Tommy’s chest suddenly feels cold. Maybe... maybe that “we” should have been an “I”. He looks at Wilbur more directly now, and his eyebrows furrow slightly at the pitying grimace the man is sporting. He catches Tommy’s eyes and sighs, looking towards the ground.

”Tommy, I know you trust him. Of course you do,” Wilbur says, his voice soft and laced with laughter near the end. Tommy can’t tell if the man is pained, or if the laughter is forced. “He’s your Tubbo! Tubbo- Tubbo in a box! You remember that?”

Tommy doesn’t reply. He does remember- of course he does, it hasn’t been more than a few days ago. And that thought alone is jarring. The fact that he could go from being so happy with the three of them in their home, to being exiled and hidden in a dirt shack in what had to be less than a week? It was concerning. Though, he’s also a little caught up on the fact that Wilbur called Tubbo _his._ Like he knows just how much Tubbo means to him.

Tommy wonders if it’s obvious, then, how close he and Tubbo are. Tommy wasn’t always the best friend a guy could have- there’d been more than a few instances of Tommy pushing Tubbo out of trees, or calling him shit or poking fun at him. It was all a bit, of course, and Tubbo was aware of that- Tommy knew the boy sometimes acted extra sweet just to play along with the joke. But still, it had happened more than once where onlookers would get a bit concerned.

So when Wilbur says that Tubbo’s his as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, as if it’s some undeniable truth of the land, Tommy wonders if Schlatt knew this too. Wonders what kind of game Schlatt wanted to play when he called Tubbo his right hand man. 

“Tommy-?”

Tommy’s hands are twisted in the bedding again, his jaw clenched so tightly it aches. His brows are furrowed, but when Wilbur says his name like he might lose him too, Tommy sighs, nodding. “I remember,” He murmurs, then, after a second of hesitation, he adds, “We need him, Will. We need Tubbo.”

Wilbur sighs, his hand running through his hair like Tommy’s being difficult. It makes his shoulders slump before Will can even say what he needs to. “I know you want to trust him, Tommy, but I don’t think I can,” Wilbur admits, and his voice sounds so, so pained. He looks so tired. “At least, not yet. Schlatt called him his right hand man- he said he wanted the job.” Wilbur inhales sharply, shoulders slumping and head tilting to the floor. “Tommy,” He starts, his voice shaking on the inhale. “Was I a bad president?”

Of all the things Wilbur could have said, Tommy wasn’t expecting that one. He can’t say he hasn’t wondered if Tubbo’s betrayed them. It’s been a fear in his mind since he heard his friend frantically trying to find his way to the stage. But Wilbur thinking he was a bad president? Tommy hadn’t even stopped to consider that, because there was no way- no way would that ever be true.

There were two ultimate truths to this world, in Tommy’s mind. Two concrete things that could never be broken or crushed. They were that Tubbo was Tommy’s best friend, and that Wilbur was a phenomenal leader. 

“What? Will, you were an incredible president, more than Schlatt’ll ever be,” Tommy assures, and Wilbur lets out a soft noise. Tommy lifts his hand, resting it gently on Wilbur’s shoulder, thumb tracing small circles. “Look, it’s been a long day, and you’re exhausted. I can’t sleep anyways, so why don’t you take the bed tonight, and I can continue mining, yeah?”

Wilbur gives him a protesting look, but when he sees Tommy’s expression, caring and stern, he gives in. “Alright, Tommy.” He murmurs, and Tommy nods in approval, scooting to the side so that Wilbur can lay himself down on the bed. There’s no doubt that he’s getting dirt and rocks all over the sheets, but that’s a problem for a later date. “I think I’ll write Techno in the morning.” Will murmurs, thoughts hazy with sleep as he gets himself comfortable in the bedding. 

Tommy nods, searching through their chest and finding a suitable pickaxe. He moves as quietly as he can, watches as Wilbur stills and his breathing becomes more even. Wilbur doesn’t quite look peaceful though, and while that’s understandable, it reminds Tommy entirely of when Dream had been attacking them every few days. The days when they still didn’t have their freedom, and were fighting for it day and night. 

The comparison makes Tommy’s stomach twist horribly, a cold sweat wracking through him as if he’s been plunged into ice water. It’s another war, Tommy realizes, his posture straightening just slightly as he sucks in a jagged breath. It’s another war, but it isn’t his first, and like hell if Tommy isn’t going to give it everything he’s got.


	3. Chapter 3

Techno’s arrival was set to happen in a few days time.

Tommy should be excited; this would be the first time seeing his other brother in months. But with the looming feeling of war, Tommy can’t help but worry over potential complications. He requests that he and Wilbur expand their barracks, that way if they both died, respawning would be guaranteed. And, while they work on that, his mind still wanders to the possibilities.

One of his main concerns is that Techno has a horrible sense of direction. He’s asked Tommy for directions before, but he always starts spewing some _‘northeast’_ and _‘the sun came from that direction’_ bullshit. ...Okay, maybe they both have a terrible sense of direction, but like hell if Tommy is ever going to utter the words _‘south’, ‘north’, ‘east’,_ or _‘west’_ in a way that isn’t to make fun of his older brother. 

But that limits Tommy to landmarks, and there really aren’t any. Pogtopia is built into the side of a hill, hidden away. There aren’t any tall buildings to reference, no beautiful walls that mark a safe home. The only remotely identifying landmark are a few trees and flowers, maybe a river, but like hell if that’s going to work. _And,_ Tommy realizes, his eyes widening slightly, _if the letter containing their directions is intercepted, anyone familiar with the area could figure out just where him and Wilbur have been hiding._

The thought terrifies him. Because if someone figures out where they’ve been staying, they could easily be kidnapped, or have their beds destroyed, and yet another home would be made unsafe again. And while this isn’t quite a home, he’s slept here- his bed is here, and he’ll respawn here if he gets into any trouble. And that’s good enough. 

So he thinks of other options. They still have to go get Techno, and odds are he’ll start off near the community house. Except, Tommy and Wilbur aren’t exactly welcome there either. They aren’t _unwelcome_ per se, but after L’manburgh’s independence, things had been a little tense. And, well, they’d have to guide Techno through L’manburgh too, and they definitely aren’t welcome there either. 

At least, not yet. 

“Wilbur,” Tommy starts, while the man in question is carving out a larger section of the cave. He stops, arms dropping to his sides as if they each weighed ten tons, and turns to face Tommy. “I think we should try talking to Schlatt.” He suggests, and he doesn’t have to look up to see the way Wilbur’s eyebrows raise and his mouth falls agape- he knows it happens.

”About what, Tommy? He’ll probably just kill us.” Wilbur replies, and yeah, Tommy’s thought about that too. Wilbur sounds incredibly puzzled, maybe a little frustrated too, but it’s the bewilderment that Tommy decides to focus on. 

“Yeah, no, I know, but hear me out- we have our spawns set here, yeah? They don’t know where this place is,” Tommy explains, his hands gesturing out in front of him as if to prove a point. “But if we send a letter or anything like that to Techno, then they could figure that out and come in here and kill us. But if we don’t tell Techno where we are, then he’ll just be lost and might get captured or something. So I say, we go back, and we try talking to Schlatt about getting some sort of pass. Technoblade isn’t banned from L’manburgh yet, and we just need a pass to show him around.”

”Maybe if you were just better with directions-“

”Oh don’t give me that. How many times have _you_ gotten lost on the way back here?” Tommy asks, his voice more or less a huff when he looks back up at Wilbur. He trusts the man, he really does. He’s his older brother after all, and this isn’t the first war Tommy’s followed him into. He just wishes Wilbur returned that trust- wishes his brother’s eyebrows weren’t furrowed at him like he thought Tommy was stupid. “Even if they do just kill us, we’ll respawn here. They gain nothing from it. But if they kill Techno, they’ll know he’s trying to help us, and he’ll have to come all the way back.”

Wilbur doesn’t look any more sure of Tommy’s plan, but to be perfectly honest, Tommy is still hesitant with it too. But they don’t really have much of a choice- this is their best option. Wilbur sighs, his hand running through his hair and tugging, as if the idea is physically paining him, and Tommy sits and waits for Wilbur’s answer, ready to defend himself if it’s a no. 

“Alright, Tommy. We’ll do your idea,” Wilbur says, and the fact that Wilbur agreed is surprising- so much so that Tommy has to stop himself before he spews out more reasons they should follow this plan. His eyebrows raise at Wilbur, and the man looks back at him sternly, eyebrows still furrowed ever so slightly. “But you need to keep calm, alright? We are just asking for a one day visa. We are not overthrowing the government.”

”Well, not yet we aren’t,” Tommy counters, and Wilbur’s eyes narrow at him like he’s angry. “But yeah! Yeah, no, I’ll- I’ll be careful, Will.” He quickly says, and both he and Wilbur know it wouldn’t be the first time he’s said something similar in a similar situation. But, just as what had occurred the last time, Wilbur relents, nodding.

From there, they prepare their leave, donning iron armor and brandishing swords. It wasn't going to do much against netherite or diamond, Tommy was sure of that, but at the very least it would provide some protection. Still, Tommy's stomach twists as he and Wilbur slowly make their way back to L'manburgh, his body breaking out in a cold sweat despite the heat of the armor. 

There was rarely a time in which Tommy had to wear armor, let alone Wilbur. The man always seemed to want to battle with words instead, claiming that if his enemy was mature as he was, then there would be no need for physical violence. And, if they did end up attacking, then they weren't as mature, and thus a victory could be secured. And even though Tommy always thought that sentiment to be bullshit, he can't help how he feels less safe, oddly enough, wearing armor than he would without. 

There's no familiar walls that greet them. Even though Tommy sat back and watched their destruction, hidden away so that he couldn't be seen, it's still jarring to see them completely and utterly gone. He can see a few people moving about- he sees Fundy, then spots Niki and Eret having a conversation near the fields. His eyebrows narrow at the sight of Eret, but he doesn't get much time to be angry- instead, he has to catch up to Wilbur.

Wilbur has walked over to greet Fundy, the man in question giving the each of them a perplexed and almost upset look. Wilbur is mid conversation by the time Tommy shows up, catching only the tail end of what Wilbur is saying. "-with Schlatt, if you could help us, Fundy." He finishes, and Tommy keeps his eyes on Fundy, and he doesn't miss the way the man reaches for his sword.

"Yeah, uh, sure, Will." Fundy answers, and though he doesn't draw his sword, his hand idly rests there. Wilbur gives Fundy a nod, a half smile on his face as Fundy begins to guide them towards the White House, glancing over his shoulder every now and then to make sure that they're still following. There's something to Fundy's expression that Tommy can't quite place, but considering the relationship between both him and Wilbur, Tommy hopes it's something good.

The walk up the hill is silent, not a word exchanged between the three of them. Tommy keeps a careful eye on Fundy, his own hand resting idly on his sword, just in case. It would be no match for Fundy's diamond, but it would at least be something. Just as they reach the entrance to the White House, Tubbo steps out, and Tommy can't help the way his expression lights up.

The first emotion he feels is relief that his friend is safe, however, as he takes in the rest of his friend's appearance, the emotion shifts. Instead of the navy coat and red sash, Tubbo is wearing a neatly pressed black suit, a red tie tightly tied around his neck.


	4. Chapter 4

The last person Tubbo expects to see when he leaves the White House is Tommy.

He's frozen in place at first, eyes wide and back stiff as he takes in the sight of his friend. Tommy's hair is messier than it usually is, his L'manburgh uniform dirtied and stained. He's got a bit of dirt smudged against his cheek, and he's looking at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Tubbo can hardly process what must be happening, his mind whirring with the possibilities. Fundy's hand meets his shoulder, and he flinches under the contact, his gaze immediately shifting.

"Keep an eye on them while I get Schlatt." Fundy instructs, his eyes narrowed at Tubbo as he says it. Tubbo swallows, giving the man a nod before Fundy lifts his hand from Tubbo's shoulder, making his way inside. Tubbo keeps his eyes trained on Fundy as the man walks inside the building, not quite willing to look back to where Tommy and Wilbur stand. He's granted a moment of silent peace, even as Fundy leaves them alone. Just as Tubbo thinks he might be able to look them in the eyes, he turns his gaze, and Wilbur speaks.

"Tubbo, you've- you've changed your uniform." He says, and there's something just a little broken to the way he says it. It's startling- Wilbur had never once broken during their revolution. Yet here he stands, dirty and exhausted and hurt as he takes Tubbo in. Tubbo shifts under Wilbur's gaze, hand subconsciously reaching up to fidget with the tie around his neck.

"It's- It's mandatory." He answers, and there's nothing pleasant about it. His answer doesn't satisfy neither himself nor Wilbur, both of them standing uncomfortably silent. There's so much Tubbo wants to tell them- he wants to ask them to take him away from here, he wants to ask them if they're safe, if he can help them. The only thing stopping him is the fear of what might happen if someone hears him. 

It's slightly unreasonable, but with recent events, he doesn't know who would rat him out or not. And then- then he doesn't know what Schlatt would do.

That's one of the primary things with Schlatt; he is a man of uncertainties. Tubbo has no idea what he might do if Schlatt heard how he really felt about everything, and it forces his imagination to create possibilities. Considering what he's already faced during their revolution, the idea of something potentially worse is enough to keep him quiet, even as he looks between his friends. 

"Tubbo." Tommy starts, and there's a slight waver to his voice that catches his attention, eyes widening and some crushing feeling wedging itself between his ribs and lungs until it feels hard to breathe. Because Tommy, for once, sounds _scared._ Even in previous wars, Tommy had never been scared. He'd been determined and calculating, and maybe startled in combat. Tommy was never supposed to be scared, and yet, here he is, and Tubbo doesn't quite feel like he's breathing right.

He's not even sure why they've come back, why Fundy even bothered letting Tubbo stand here with them. He immediately thinks that they've been captured, and he feels as if he's been stabbed through the chest- but certainly they would have been restrained then. There's no way Tommy would get captured without putting up a fight. He'd curse and yell and punch until someone had to force him to be quiet with a sword at his throat, and even then, he would push the line. It's one of the things Tubbo both hated and admired in Tommy.

He thinks, then, that maybe they've given up and turned themselves in, and the thought is so horribly jarring. Schlatt had already destroyed their beds in L'manburgh. If they were killed now, it was hard to say if they would ever come back, and Tubbo feels sick at the thought of that. He's seen his friends die, he's died a few times himself. But the idea of that happening forever, _permanently,_ was enough to make Tubbo break out into a cold sweat.

He jumps as a hand rests on his shoulder, heavy and searingly hot, like a brand. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" Tubbo can hear Schlatt say just behind him, that same dark amusement lacing his words. Tubbo keeps himself still, doesn't even let his eyes move away from where they've currently settled- which just so happens to be on Tommy. 

It's almost a relief when he sees that spark of anger in Tommy's expression. Tommy's eyes have shifted to look at Schlatt, his posture just a little better than it typically is, jaw clenched and brows slightly furrowed as he stares Schlatt down. He's got that same determined look on his face as when he yelled at Dream during their revolution. And, yeah, he did got shot immediately after that, but they'd ended up winning, hadn't they? They'd won because Tommy hadn't given up.

Schlatt's thumb digs in to Tubbo's shoulder, and it's all he can do to keep from wincing at the contact.

"It has." Wilbur answers, and his voice is even, much more than it had been before. "Schlatt, I'd like to have a meeting with you. Peacefully." He says, and Tubbo can hear the door behind them open, followed by footsteps making their way to Schlatt's other side. 

"Sure, sure," Schlatt replies, and Tubbo can hear the shark-like smile he's likely sporting. "Let's all go inside so we can discuss this." Tubbo feels Schlatt's hand lift away, and near immediately lets out a soft sigh of relief. There's footsteps again, and Tubbo finds himself waiting for Tommy to be at his pace. Tommy's eyes catch his, and Tubbo almost wants to smile, at least until he hears Schlatt's voice again. "Tubbo, come on. We don't have all day."

"R-Right, sorry sir." Tubbo answers, and he doesn't bother meeting Tommy's gaze when he turns. He doesn't want to see what expression Tommy's sporting now, doesn't want to see the shock and disapproval he's sure is there. Instead, when he turns he's met with Schlatt's look of disapproval, the man's brows furrowed with annoyance, his jaw set as he stares down at Tubbo expectantly.

It's a different look than ones Tubbo's received before. It's not like Tommy's look of annoyance, where he'd jump up immediately to start fighting, and it's not like Sapnap's, maniacal and cruel. It's threatening, though, and promises more than physical violence. It's a look that threatens to tear Tubbo apart limb from limb and toss him to the dogs, and he'll be damned if it isn't effective.

They walk into the room, and Tubbo is careful as he stays at Schlatt's side, enough distance between them to prevent Schlatt from getting his hand on him again, but close enough to where it seems his loyalties are true. Quackity is on Schlatt's other side, and Wilbur and Tommy make their way into the room, standing opposite to them. There's a brief second of silence before Schlatt speaks.

"You know, you have a lot of nerve coming back here, especially after I explicitly banished you from _my_ great land." He says, his voice sharp in the otherwise silent room. His words cause Wilbur's brow to twitch, but there's no response. There's a slight pause in the room before it ends up being Tommy who speaks.

"Yeah, well, we needed to ask you for something." Tommy's voice is surprisingly even as he says it. He's obviously a little frustrated and upset, sure, but he isn't yelling and his words are flowing at an even pace. Schlatt gives him an inquisitive look, and it urges Tommy to continue, as if he's wasting his time. "You see, in a few days, we're going to have a visitor, and Wilbur and I would like a one day visa so that we can show him around."

"A one day visa, huh?" Schlatt asks, and Tommy gives him a nod.

"Yeah. Just a one time visa, and then...then we'll stay out of L'manburgh." There's something sort of defeated to the way Tommy says that, and Tubbo frowns just slightly. He only feels worse as Schlatt speaks though, his words coming out smug and honeyed. 

"It's _Manburgh,_ actually."

"It's _what?"_

Wilbur looks actually angry at that, shocked and almost furious. It isn't even directed at him, but Tubbo shrinks back at it. Wilbur, who was always calm and stern and even, looks just about two steps away from grabbing Schlatt by his tie and choking him. Even Tommy looks shocked by Wilbur's tone, and he raises his hand uneasily, hesitant to rest it on Wilbur's arm.

"It's called Manburgh, now. Figured it was time for a change of pace." Schlatt answers, and he sounds all too amused by the reaction he's managed to get. Wilbur goes to take a step forwards, and Tommy grabs him by the arm, holding him tightly in place. Wilbur stops, his teeth grit as Tommy continues the conversation, looking all the part like a feral animal. It's unnerving.

"Just a one day visa, Schlatt, and then we'll stay out of- out of Manburgh." Tommy repeats, and the way he says _'Manburgh'_ sounds like he's choking on the word. It's enough, though, and Schlatt presses on.

"You said this was for a guest; who is this visitor anyways?"

Tommy hesitates for just a second, then answers, "Technoblade."

That seems to genuinely catch Schlatt off guard, but after a second, he laughs, loud and boisterous. "Oh, Technoblade! I love that guy. We go way back." Schlatt muses, and Tubbo can't tell if he's mocking them or if he's genuinely that amused. He looks away from his friends, eyes shifting towards Schlatt so that way he can better gauge his expression, only now noticing just how many people have filtered into the room. There's quite a few people, most of which wearing armor, Fundy and Eret included amidst the bunch. "Sure, sure you can have a visa."

Tubbo's eyes shift back to Tommy and Wilbur, who both look a bit shocked at Schlatt's agreement. They're given no time to reply as Schlatt continues, voice loud and in that same boisterous tone he'd sported before, like he's excited. "Does someone have a book and quill? I need a book and quill to write the visa." He requests, and it ends up being Eret who pulls one from his pack. Schlatt doesn't seem to notice, though- he doesn't catch the way Eret sets it on the floor, kicking it over to them. It slides across the tile, landing between him and Tubbo, and Tubbo looks down at the book before glancing over at Eret.

The man's expression is hard to determine with his glasses, but it definitely does not look pleased with Schlatt. His eyes catch on Tubbo's, though, and Tubbo begins to feel the pinpricks between his shoulders as he quickly diverts his gaze back to the book. As more of a distraction than anything, Tubbo bends down and picks up the book, forcefully ignoring the conversation.

"Hand me the book, Tubbo!" 

Schlatt's shout comes out from seemingly nowhere, startling Tubbo so badly he almost drops the book himself. His eyes go wide and his posture straightens, taking a half step to put some distance between himself and Schlatt. His hands shake as he holds out the book, and it's forcefully ripped away from him. Being around Schlatt has made Tubbo feel uneasy, sure, but the man had never _yelled_ at him. And now- now all those people in the room are staring at him, and Tubbo is reminded of the fact that he doesn't have anything on him to defend himself.

His heart pounds painfully against his chest, his breathing becoming unsteady, and he can't even begin to process just _what_ is happening when Tommy puts himself between him and Schlatt, pushing the man away, yelling. The push is enough to have Tubbo's anxieties skyrocket, and he quickly glances around, eyes landing on a little broom closet underneath the stairs- one that he quickly scrambles into, hiding as if his life depends on it. 

His breathing sounds too loud, it catching ragged in his throat as he tries to calm himself. Schlatt won't like it if he's too loud, too much of a bother, and yet- Tubbo almost _screams_ when the doorknob twists open, his hand clasping over his mouth to stop him. It's Punz who's opened the door, his expression neutral as he stares at Tubbo. He doesn't look concerned, not really, but he doesn't look angry or upset either. 

Tubbo catches his breath as Punz stands there, watching him from the doorway, and when Tubbo thinks he might be okay, he gives the man a slight nod. Punz steps aside, and Tubbo hesitantly makes his way back out, eyes drawn to the floor as the rest of them continue in their conversation. He knows a few of them are staring- he can practically feel it, and it almost makes him feel ashamed. 

Not much else happens during the meeting. Tommy and Wilbur are given the visa, and as they make their way outside, everyone else in the room seems to follow them. Tubbo follows the crowd, careful not to step too close to anyone, wishing that for the life of him he could just disappear from here. There's a little more conversation that Tubbo doesn't want to pay attention to, but then, Wilbur's voice addresses him. 

"Hey, Tubbo."

It's soft, and so, so kind, and Tubbo realizes just how much he's missed it. He looks up, catches Wilbur's gaze, sees the small sort of concern the man wears. His own voice is just as soft as he answers, as if this conversation is a secret nobody else should be able to hear. 

"Hi, Wilbur."

"Tubbo, could you escort Tommy and I off of Manburgh grounds?" He asks, and Tubbo perks up a little at that, his chest tightening with hope. Hope that Wilbur and Tommy still trust him, will rescue him and take him away from this place once and for all. He misses them, misses being talked to like this- with kindness and respect. He nods eagerly, taking a step forwards. Schlatt gives him a sort of look, and Tubbo looks back at him, trying his hardest to keep his expression even.

"It- It is my job." He says, and Schlatt's eyes narrow at him just slightly before he nods, and Tubbo can hardly contain himself as he speed-walks towards Tommy and Wilbur. "Alright, yeah, let's get going." He ushers, hoping to get out of there quickly, hoping that Schlatt won't change his mind. And then they start going, and Tubbo's excited and so incredibly happy to be back with his friends. They walk in what is mostly silence, Tubbo leading them further and further away, until-

"I think that's far enough, Tubbo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super long chapter for today.


End file.
